


The Things that Always Add Up

by inkberrry



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, Slow Burn, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 07:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14039154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkberrry/pseuds/inkberrry
Summary: Prompto is injured and separated from his friends, the enemy closing in. While he struggles to find the strength to fight on he recalls the times in his life when he didn't feel so alone.





	The Things that Always Add Up

The trees were a flash of green, the dirt and sky muddled brown and blue as they switched and swirled and bled together. Prompto’s stomach lurched as he spun out of control down the forested slope, his feet somehow managing to pass above his head as he struggled to keep his eyes open and watch where he fell. It was a lost cause, and before long he squeezed them shut to block out the dizzying world around him. In the darkness his other senses swelled and he could acutely feel the twigs and knife sharp thorns of devil’s club that scrapped and left beads of bright blood on his skin.  
  
When he thought the slope must go on forever he landed with a heavy thump on even ground, the air knocked from his lungs in one last uncontrolled exhale. When his head stopped spinning  and he opened his eyes the sky had stabilized above him, the washed out blue of the afternoon finally in its rightful place. He let out a pained groan and gingerly brought a hand to his face only to pull it away sticky with blood.  
  
The desire to close his eyes again was strong; almost as strong as the desire to drift into unconsciousness. It would be soft and dark and the ringing now invading his head would likely fade away. No, it wouldn’t be so bad to rest for a moment. Only a minute, Prompto told himself. He deserved that much after the fall he took.  
  
Before he could sink into the comfort of blackness he heard the unmistakable sound of armored feet moving through underbrush. A slight scrape of metal against metal, the snap of wood and crunch of scattered pebbles and that hiss he’d come to associate with the release of machinery. His attention snapped towards the direction the noises came from, sleep and ignorance now the farthest thing from his mind.  
  
_Damn, they were fast_ , he thought. Faster than a high speed tumble down a steep hill, somehow. Prompto didn’t think that was fair, but not much about this situation was. If things were fair he’d still be at camp with Noctis and the others, maybe drinking a mug of coffee while Gladio berated him for not studying the map with the rest of them.  
  
Instead he was here, prone on his back while Imperial soldiers surrounded him. It wasn’t the best start to the day.  
  
Prompto struggled to his feet with a series of groans, one of which sounded awfully wet. He coughed into his palm and pulled away to see yet another bright bloom of red. That probably wasn’t good. Right then he didn’t have the time to worry over whether his internal organs had gone for a spin the same way his body had, though. He had to move.  
  
The first step he took sent a shockwave of pain through his leg. Prompto grit his teeth and tested out putting weight on his right foot again and again the pain came. The fall down the slope had done more damage than he’d thought. At this rate he wouldn’t get far, not with the sounds of the Imperials drawing ever closer.  
  
Looking around, Prompto spotted an outcropping of rock tucked between a few old growth trees. The natural faults and crags in the rock left a narrow space where two sections met, forming a well hidden and shadowed cave. Knowing a break when he saw one, Prompto limped over as well as he could.  
  
“Just a small space,” he mumbled to himself.  “Just a tiny cramped space where I can get stuck. No biggie. Nope.”  
  
It was a squeeze, but Prompto managed to get inside the opening and wedge himself as far back as he could. From here he had a view of the area outside the rocks and the ocean of trees and underbrush beyond.  It wasn’t much, but it was a place to hide for now. With luck, which Prompto was beginning to think he didn’t have any of, the Imperial soldiers would march right past him. If not, well, it was a good a place for a last stand as any. Or a last huddled and stuck between two giant rocks, as it were.  
  
A moment of concentration later and Prompto had his gun drawn and held firmly in his hands. He could still access the Armiger. which was a good sign, indicating that wherever he was, Noctis was safe. If something had happened to the prince Prompto’s connection would be severed, his weapon lost to him in some ethereal outer dimension.  
  
Maybe Noctis was hiding too, Prompto thought before immediately rejecting the idea. No, he wouldn’t do that. He’d be fighting, Ignis and Gladio at his side to protect him. There’s where _he_ should be, too. Not here, not alone.  
  
The Imperials had ambushed them at camp that morning. Before the sun even rose, proving yet again those bastards had no souls. A mad dash to summon weapons and fight back took place and in the confusion Prompto became separated from the others. He’d lost his cool, his mind foggy with sleep but somehow alert with panic at the same time. If only he had been calm and in control like Ignis, or ready and fierce like Gladio, then maybe he wouldn’t have ended up here.  
  
A nearby crunch of boots on twigs pulled Prompto from his self pity and he looked out towards the sound, his heart racing. He could see them clearly now, the shining metal and heavy armor, the tinted sick green of their skin. There was no supressing the shiver that ran down Prompto’s spine as he watched the MTs move closer and he only hoped they didn’t pick up on the slight movement between the rocks.  
  
There were too many of them, he realized. Together with his friends their numbers wouldn’t mean a thing, but alone, just him…Prompto didn’t stand a chance.  
  
The gun in his hand shook as he tried to steady his breathing. He was alone. _He was alone._  
  
Prompto had almost forgotten what that felt like. It had been months, even years, since he’d felt the dagger sharp pain of complete solitude, the kind that he couldn’t drag himself out of; the kind that left him shaking and crying, aching deep in his chest. He wanted to do that now, to cry and clutch at his arms and squeeze his eyes shut in hopes that when he opened them again he’d be somewhere, _anywhere_ else.  
  
No, not anywhere. He wanted to be with Noctis. With Noctis and Ignis and Gladio. With his friends.  
  
If these were his last moments, and Prompto thought they very well might be, he didn’t want to feel alone. He wanted to remember the good feelings and all the times the shadows in his heart had lifted, and those who had done the lifting.  
  
Squeezing his eyes shut again, Prompto drowned out the sight of the MTs and the noise of their marching. His mind drifted, searching for the memories he wanted most to keep with him.

* * *

 

“Are you _sure_ about this Noct, er, your highness?”

Prompto stumbled over the title, for once using it as a formality instead of a joke. Out of the corner of his eye he swore he could see Cor _smirk_ and that was more terrifying than anything else he imagined he’d be up against today in training.

“You can call me what you usually do, Prompto,” Noctis said, his voice somewhat exasperated. He looked only half awake and ready for a cup of coffee - a direct contrast to Prompto’s nervous energy.

“And yeah, I’m sure. I told you that already. Like, five times.”

It was more than five times, Prompto knew. Probably closer to fifty. Still it was hard for him to believe, to really and truly wrap his brain around the fact that Noctis wanted him to be a member of his Crownsguard. He wasn’t anyone special. He was just the adopted kid who’d latched onto the prince in an effort to have just _one_ friend.

“Its just, you know, you’ve got that big guy Gladio and Ignis and they’ve, what, trained their whole life for this right?” He continued on, unable to let the subject drop yet. This could be Noctis’ last chance to change his mind. Given the word, Prompto could walk out of the large training room and back into the obscure life he’d lived up until this point. Nothing gained, a little lost, but at least he’d know Noctis was certain about his decision.

“I’m just…me. I mean I can probably run laps around you all but that’s really it.”

Noctis shrugged, dismissing Prompto’s worries yet again. If he had any reservations Prompto wasn’t about to find out, not matter how many self deprecating comments he made.

“I’d go crazy with just the two of them,” Noctis said. “Think of it that way.”

That was believable at least. Over the last few months he’d gotten to know Ignis and Gladiolus a bit since they came and went from Noctis’ apartment almost as much as he did. He could imagine the constant nagging Noctis would suffer through if it was only the three of them on their long road trip. The mere thought made him shudder in commiseration.

Prompto was about to reply with some sort of joke he was still forming in his mind when Cor walked over and placed himself solidly between him and Noctis. The smirk from earlier was gone, thank the seven, but in its place was something much more stern.

“Are you two done? We’ve got a lot to do.”

Reminded of why he was there in the first place, Prompto perked up and gave Cor what he hoped was an enthusiastic smile. If it was settled now that he was definitely going to become a Crownsguard then he wanted to put his best foot forward. For that, he needed his new teacher to like him.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m ready!”

A quick glance around the training chamber left Prompto unsure of what exactly they’d be starting with. Stands full of weapons lined the walls, sun from the high windows catching the metal and sending eye straining glares across the room. During the afternoons he’d sat on the sidelines and watched Noctis train he’d never seen him actually pick up any of those weapons. They simply materialized in his hands, luminescent and ghostly before becoming solid.

“Uh, so what do I do first?” Prompto asked, bouncing from his heels to his toes as he waited for Cor to officially start their training. “Learn how to stab things?”

Noctis rewarded Prompto for his question with a rare laugh. He glanced over at him and grinned, resisting the urge to press for a high five. Cor didn’t find it as amusing as his friend did though and after a small lecture Noctis was banished to one of the benches along the wall. There were no more distractions then and finally Prompto took the first step in his combat training.  
  
And it was a _painful_ step.

It turned out stabbing things was a lot harder than Prompto had thought. Noctis and Gladio made it seem so easy when they trained. Even Ignis, who looked more like a dancer than a fighter, handled his lance and daggers with grace. Prompto, however, ended up with his ass on the floor and his weapon halfway across the room more often than not.

Cor was not a very patient teacher, either. Prompto barely had time to scramble to his feet before the Kingsglaive member was hitting him again, smacking the blunt end of his weapon across his back or chest or any part of Prompto he could reach. He insisted that if Prompto didn’t figure out how to handle himself, and fast, there would be no use in further training.

Over the course of the morning they made their way through three rows of weapons. Prompto tried swords, lances, daggers, even a trident and an axe larger than his whole body. None of them felt right. As the hours dragged on his hands began to blister and sticky blood coated the hilts of whatever he managed to hold on to.

He didn’t give up though. Like hell he was going to give in now, not with Noctis still sitting by the wall watching his progress between bouts of dozing off.

The sun had moved out of the windows by the time Cor handed Prompto a gun. It was heavy in his hand and the cool metal was a welcome relief to his aching palms.

“You ever use one of these?” Cor asked, like he asked about every new weapon he gave Prompto. The answer was invariably the same.

“No,” Prompto said. He twirled the gun around in his grip, testing it out. Even with the pain in his hands it felt better than any of the other weapons. He stretched out his arm, looking down the gun as he aimed it towards one of the targets set across the room.

“But its kind of like a camera, right?” He asked, finally smiling again. At least the idea of a gun was somewhat familiar, unlike the unwieldy great swords or shields. “Just aim and shoot? I can do that.”

Even from his spot across the room Noctis’ snort of laughter reached Prompto. He looked over at his friend, grinning and feeling less of the pain in his hands. When he turned back to Cor that faded, as he was fixing him with another stern, unamused stare.

“No, it’s not. Do _not_ just aim and shoot.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Prompto said, waving his hands up in apology. The gun went with them, flashing in what little sunlight still streamed in. He realized he’d made another mistake when Cor simultaneously flinched his body away from Prompto and reached out to steady the arm holding the gun.

“Be _careful_ , Prompto,” Cor said, taking the gun away and flicking a small switch on the side of it. He began to walk closer to the target, motioning for Prompto to follow. “You can stop apologizing too. Here, let me show you how to use it -"

~~~~

Prompto spent the next few weeks with more bruises than clear skin. He’d thought losing weight had been a difficult test of discipline and sacrifice, but it held nothing to training with Cor. Each day he would stumble home or to Noctis’ apartment, battered and nearly broken. It wasn’t a bad feeling though. Despite the aches and pains and more scrapes than he could count, Prompto felt _good_.

His favorite part of training, he’d found, was practicing with the others. After Cor deemed him more dangerous to enemies than to allies, Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio started to join him. Or he started to join them, but either way they were together for long hours of the day. He had been nervous at first, and he still was, but something about having the other boys there made him work even harder.

“Prompto! Left!”

Gladio’s deep voice boomed in his ears and Prompto spun to the left, back stepping as he did. A rush of air hit him, the blade displacing it narrowly missing his shoulder. His arm came up without thought, fingers squeezing the trigger of his gun. The shot, point blank and on target, hit the magic imbued dummy right where it’s heart should have been. The spell broken, it fell to the floor in front of Prompto, who skipped aside and moved on to the next target.

There were still three dummies left, each busy with one of the other boys. Prompto scanned the room as quick as he could, his battle senses still young but improving with each new drill. He spotted Ignis with a knee on the floor attempting to push himself back up, a dummy closing in on him.

Prompto was at Ignis’ side in a heartbeat, using his body to shove the threat away before brining his gun full force to the side of it’s head. It staggered backwards, giving Prompto the opportunity to get off a shot that rendered it prone.

“You okay, Iggy?” he asked, grabbing Ignis’ arm and pulling him to his feet. “I got you.”

Ignis gave him a quick nod and moved in to finish the dummy off, but by then Prompto was racing away again. He spared a second to thank all the endurance running he’d done over the years and how it had built up his stamina without him even knowing. It was useful now, and it would be for the weeks and months to come.

The drill was over a moment later, the four boys breathing heavy and standing among the now motionless forms of the training dummies. Prompto felt the roll of a bead of sweat start down his back and suddenly realized how hot it was and just how much energy he’d expended. Before he could wipe the sweat away or crumple onto the distant benches Gladio’s large palm smacked his shoulder, sending him stumbling forward.

“Good work, freckles,” Gladio said. “Didn’t think you’d pull this off so well. I’m actually impressed.”

Prompto looked up at Galdio, his eyes shining. It was the first compliment the big guy had given him. He and Ignis had questioned Noctis’ insistence that Prompto become a Crownsguard, that much he knew. They’d never come right out and said it but it was there. To hear the change in their opinions left him with a smile that threatened to overtake his face.

He didn’t trust his voice not to crack and break when he answered, so instead Prompto shrugged and laughed.

“Eheh, well, you know…”

“He’s quite right,” Ignis added. “You’ve done well, Prompto.”

Next to him Noctis crossed his arms over his chest and huffed out a sigh.

“I _told_ you guys,” he said. “Prompto is going to be a good Crownsguard. I told you I knew that.”

“Of course, Noctis,” Ignis said. While his tone was slightly mollifying he was actually smiling, which was something that Prompto hadn’t gotten used to seeing yet. “He’s a fine addition to the tradition of protecting the King.”

“Damn straight,” Gladio agreed and aimed a friendly punch to Prompto’s shoulder, which he quickly dodged. He was lucky he was fast, he thought. Gladio’s punches never felt quite pulled enough.

Once he was out of range of Gladio Prompto looked back at the three boys, all of them watching him. His bottom lip shook for an instant and he smiled instead to keep it steady.

“You guys. Come on. I’m gonna cry.”

He _did_ cry, later that night at home and in bed. The rest of the house was quiet, like it always was. For once that didn’t matter to Prompto. The stillness around him didn’t feel lonely tonight because today he had felt like he was a part of something. Something bigger and greater than himself.

He hadn’t been alone.


End file.
